I’m graduating and taking my terrible writing with me
Holy smokes, it’s been an adventure. About two a half years ago, the once Opinion Editor, current Editor-in-Chief, forever legend asked me if I’d like to try writing for The Spectrum. Seeing as I specialize in nonsense, I couldn’t have imagined it becoming this kind of a fixture in my life. Now, like the bus driver who sees you running for your life to make it, I have to abruptly and happily move on.
I know, please try to hold back your tears. I can hear you saying, through whimpering and snot, “Well, at least you’re happy. Do you have any regrets?”
What a silly question. I obviously do. I firmly believe anyone who answers that question “no” is a grubby little liar. There’s always a way to do it better, and college is about the good times and the bad. It’s how you figure yourself out.
It’s like you’re finding all the things you like by putting together a puzzle. Before you got here, it was probably akin to one of those “6+” puzzles where the age restriction is so that you don’t eat the pieces. It’s got 16 total, and they are all brightly colored and distinct.
Now you’ve got an 8,000-piece puzzle. And some of them are missing. And there’s no picture on the box. And you smell smoke in the house, but you need to work on the puzzle.
So my regrets? Starting projects the week they were due. Maybe hitting the sauce a bit hard. (What can I say? I love spicy food.) That time I hit a delivery truck and found out a Hyundai Elantra is secretly an accordion.
My time at The Spectrum? Never. Not a single article. Don’t get me wrong, most of them are garbage. All of them are a little bit garbage. They ramble, and they have social commentary no one cares about.
If you’re thinking, “Hey, I care about stuff!” then slow down. No one should care about the things I care about. No one should foam at the mouth because every gosh darn wrong way sign in this country is aimed at the entrance ramp facing traffic going the right way. No one should be enraged at every last person who thinks they like the charcoal ash of a burnt marshmallow when, in fact, they are lying to themselves and everyone they love. This is what keeps me awake at night.
The most honest thing I can say about my articles is that they make me laugh. I wrote what I wrote because I enjoyed it. If other people enjoyed it too, well, then that just makes me enjoy it that much more.
So if you did like my stuff or if you’re just flipping through the paper or if you’re just clicking whatever story online, thanks for reading my final ramble. My last rant. At least you made it to the end.